The air was choked with smoke and ash as Leonard pressed deeper into the crumbling citadel, with only the glow of his golden aura illuminating the path ahead. Around him, his soldiers moved as one, unwavering despite Pollus’s men's desperate resistance. The screams of the wounded and dying echoed through the stone corridors, blending with the clash of steel and the sharp crack of spellfire.

  Overall, it was exactly what one would expect during a siege. We've been fortunate so far that our enemies have always been too weak and surprised to fight back. This has left us unprepared for this specific kind of hell.

  Every step forward felt like walking through water. The Void’s corruption hung in the air, invisible yet insidious, seeping into the cracks of reality, making Leonard’s teeth clench. In response, the light within him burned brighter, acting as a beacon of defiance against the end-of-all-things.

  “This place reeks of death,” muttered Captain Roan, barely audible over the chaos of battle. His eyes darted to Leonard, searching for reassurance. “Are we sure this is the way?”

  Leonard didn’t look back. “Trust the plan,” he said simply. Elder Wei, who had somehow managed to catch up with them, snorted but didn’t say anything when he lifted an eyebrow.

  The maze-like corridors of the citadel’s outer layers combined strategic brilliance with decaying grandeur. The narrow passages forced his men into tight formations, limiting their maneuverability, while flickering magical lights mounted on the walls cast long, shifting shadows that made every corner seem like a potential ambush.

  A volley of arrows hissed through the air from somewhere ahead. Leonard raised his free hand, and a shimmering barrier of Light flared into existence. It caught the projectiles mid-flight and disintegrated them into harmless sparks. His soldiers pressed forward, their boots thundering against the stone.

  “Keep the formations!” barked Gareth, who had taken charge of the left flank. “We’re not giving the bastards an inch!” The men roared in response and made short work of the latest wave of enemies.

  Leonard spotted another group of defenders ahead—a mix of seasoned knights and frantic young recruits. They fought with the desperation of men who knew they were doomed but refused to give in. The knights formed tight shield walls, while mages hurled bolts of fire and ice from behind their ranks.

  “For Hetnia! For the Kingdom!” one shouted before being silenced by an axe to the skull, courtesy of Elder Wei, who went to great pains to show that she wasn’t just a shaman.

  Leonard smashed into their ranks, Dyeus blazing as he cut through the defenders. Each swing of the blade sent arcs of golden energy slicing through shields and armor alike. Yet, even as his men surged behind him, he couldn’t shake the growing unease in his chest. The whispers of the Void grew louder, and his experience told him that this level of presence couldn’t be achieved by merely using some of the corpses left behind during the Incursion to spread the taint.

  I don’t want to believe Pollus was stupid enough to open a breach, but how else could this much filth be present?

  You can save them all, one voice cooed, sickly sweet. If only you’d stop clinging to that borrowed Light and take what is yours by right.

  Such a waste of potential, sneered another, darker and colder. You will fail them. You always fail because you don’t have the balls to do what you need to.

  Leonard banished the voices with a surge of will, and the Light around him flared even brighter. However, the side effects of such extreme usage were starting to show. Some of his soldiers, even the most devout, hesitated to look at him directly, their eyes betraying unease. The golden radiance that shielded them from the Void’s influence was too brilliant, too alien. While many fell into fervent prayer, others trembled at the sight, disturbed by the impossible magnitude of his power.

  The panic wasn’t limited to his own forces. The defenders were crumbling under the relentless assault, their formations breaking apart as Leonard and his elite forces cut through them. But desperation often bred ingenuity, and Leonard could see signs of a larger plan forming in the chaos.

  Ahead, the corridor widened into a larger hall, its ceiling lined with intricate carvings that had once depicted scenes of royal triumph. Leonard could sense something off—an unnatural stillness that set his teeth on edge.

  “Hold!” he commanded, raising a hand. His forces came to an abrupt stop, warily watching for an ambush.

  The ground trembled beneath their feet.

  “Trap!” shouted Gareth from the rear.

  The ceiling above them groaned ominously before collapsing in a deafening roar. Chunks of stone the size of carriages plummeted to the ground, sending up a cloud of dust and debris that choked the air. Leonard threw up a barrier to shield his men, but the force of the collapse sent shockwaves rippling through the citadel.

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  As the dust started to settle, Leonard assessed the damage. The path back to the main forces was now blocked by a massive wall of rubble. The remaining defenders were nowhere to be seen, having retreated deeper into the citadel or been crushed to death.

  “Damn it,” Gareth growled, coughing as he waved away the dust. “They’re willing to do anything to slow us.”

  Leonard’s eyes narrowed as he sensed movement beyond the rubble. “They’re stalling for time.” He agreed.

  A low, guttural moan echoed through the hall, followed by the shuffle of countless feet. The air grew colder, and the whispers of the Void grew louder.

  Dozens of figures emerged from the shadows—men, women, and even children—their faces twisted in agony. Their eyes were pitch black, and their movements were jerky and disjointed, like puppets on frayed strings.

  “Already too far gone,” Leonard murmured with pity.

  The sight was enough to make even the most hardened soldier pause. These were not trained fighters or conscripts; they were civilians and slaves, twisted into abominations by the Void’s taint.

  Leonard stepped forward, flaring his golden aura once more. “They’ve been turned against their will,” he rumbled with quiet fury. “Give them peace.”

  The sight of the corrupted civilians made his men hesitate, and Leonard could taste their fear. For anyone who hadn’t spent years battling such abominations, the initial encounter with the Corrupted voidlings was a baptism by fire. Unfortunately, they didn’t have time to let them adjust.

  “Focus!” he barked. “They’re already gone. All we can do now is release them from this torment.”

  With a collective shout, his soldiers charged, their resolve hardening. The hall erupted into chaos as the two forces clashed. Leonard waded into the fray, cutting through the Void-touched. Each strike sent waves of Light rippling through the air, disintegrating the corruption and leaving nothing but ash in its wake.

  The battle was brutal and time-consuming, and Leonard knew it was exactly what Pollus wanted. Every second spent fighting these abominations was a second that he could use to prepare.

  The golden light of Leonard’s aura flickered and flared, illuminating the crumbling stone walls of the citadel as his forces pushed deeper into the labyrinthine corridors. Every step forward was met with resistance from the corrupted remnants of the citadel’s populace. It was a horrific sight that even the most seasoned of Leonard’s troops struggled to endure.

  “Hold the formation!” Gareth roared. “Do not let them push you apart!”

  The soldiers surged forward, pushing the tainted with their shields and swinging desperately. Leonard could see the conflict etched into their faces, a mix of determination and anguish. These were not knights or mages; they were farmers, blacksmiths, and merchants twisted into monstrosities by the Void’s taint. Their jerky movements and blackened eyes were a grotesque mockery of life.

  “Push them back!” Elder Wei yelled, cleaving through a corrupted man who wore the clothes of a baker. The blow sent a spray of ash into the air, and the man next to her flinched, his knuckles whitening on his sword hilt.

  “They were just civilians,” a younger soldier muttered, trembling as he stood over the disintegrating remains of a teenage boy, his corrupted features still half-recognizable.

  “They’re too far gone," replied an older soldier whom Leonard recognized from the veterans of Alpar. “We’re saving what’s left of their humanity by putting them to rest.”

  Wherever Leonard appeared, his presence acted as a balm to the fraying morale of his troops. “They didn’t choose this fate,” he growled as he swung. “But if we falter now, more will suffer. End their torment and give them back to the Light.”

  With a roar, he swung Dyeus in a wide arc, releasing a radiant wave that swept through the corridor. The corrupted civilians caught in the path disintegrated instantly, their ashen remains floating to the ground like whispers of smoke. The soldiers, emboldened, pressed onward.

  The next section of the citadel opened into a vast chamber with a high ceiling supported by ancient stone columns. Flickering runes crawled along the walls, filling the air with an oppressive energy.

  A guttural growl echoed through the chamber. From the shadows emerged a hulking figure whose corrupted flesh rippled with unnatural power. It had once been a blacksmith, evident from the massive, twisted hammer it gripped in one oversized hand.

  Once it appeared, the men staggered, their disintegration only prevented by Leonard’s buff.

  “It’s a Scourge!” Gareth shouted, raising his spear as the creature lumbered forward, sending a lightning bolt at it. It carved a hole through its shoulder, which immediately closed up.

  The men hesitated to face it, spreading out. Scourges were known as killing machines capable of annihilating entire Corps on their own. Those who killed one were given wealth and fame enough for a lifetime. Unfortunately, very few survived the attempt.

  In this case, the Scourge was barely worth calling that. It was an abomination, an amalgam of several lesser voidlings into a greater one. It had no mind yet.

  It could still match any Master.

  Leonard immediately rushed to the front.

  The creature lunged, swinging its hammer down with bone-crushing force. Leonard sidestepped effortlessly, flashing Dyeus upward to intercept. The clash of Light against Void sent a shockwave rippling through the chamber, knocking debris from the ceiling.

  “You deserved better,” Leonard murmured as he thrust Dyeus into the creature’s chest, completely ignoring its aura’s devastating effects. The blade sank deep, and golden light erupted from the wound, consuming the abomination in a blinding flare. When the light faded, nothing remained but ash.

  Leonard turned back to his men, his expression grave. “We need to move.”

  The soldiers pushed forward, tearing through barricades and traps thanks to their enhanced abilities. Reinforced walls that would have taken hours to breach crumbled in seconds under the combined strength of a dozen men. Spells that once stalled armies were absorbed and nullified by Leonard’s shimmering barrier.

  And yet, it wasn’t the physical obstacles that weighed on them—it was their opponents' faces. The corrupted civilians weren’t just enemies; they served as reminders of the kingdom’s cruelty and the lengths to which Pollus would go to maintain control.

  “I can’t do this,” one man whispered, trembling as he stared at the twisted figure of an elderly woman advancing on him. Her skeletal hands reached out, her mouth forming words that no longer made sense. He froze, tears streaming down his face.

  Elder Wei stepped in, cleaving through the woman in a single, merciful blow with her axe. She placed a hand on his shoulder with surprising gentleness. “She’s already gone, kid.”

  The pace of their advance shifted abruptly as they reached a narrow corridor leading to the inner sanctum of the citadel. The air was thick with Void energy, and Leonard’s senses prickled with unease.

  “Wait,” he said, raising a hand.

  The ground beneath them trembled, and Leonard’s eyes narrowed. “It’s another trap. Fall back—”

  Before he could finish, a hidden explosive rune activated, erupting the floor in a cascade of rubble. The blast was contained within a carefully constructed barrier, funneling the force upward and sealing the corridor behind them once more.

  That made absolutely no sense, as the way forward was still open.

  Which means he wants us to come to him. He must have finished his preparations.